All But Inevitable
by maliky100
Summary: The Great War, now called the First Aldmeri War 70 years later, for The Aldmeri Dominion grew tired of Man's constant rebellious nature, and launched the second campaign through Tamriel, called the Second Aldmeri War. Fearing annihilation, the Empire cobbles together a small team from across Tamriel to attempt the impossible: Kill the Queen of the Aldmeri Dominion.
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello, FanFiction! This is my first story that I have posted on here. I shall attempt to satisfy your needs. Remember, this is and Elder Scrolls FanFic. Most of the characters are mine, but a few belong to Bethesda Game Studios and Bethesda Softworks, and their mighty genius. So anyway, please comment, critique, favorite, and most of all, enjoy!_**

Chapter 1: The Storm Approaches

The fields hummed with bugs, coming out into the cool High Rock air to feed. I rose from the fertile ground and leaned on my hoe, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Well, it seems I'm finished boy." I looked to my dog, Taouse, and smiled. "Let's go in and grab a bite to eat." His ears perked at the words and he lifted himself off the porch, panting happily. I walked up the small hill on which my home sat, looking back at the sky.

'Good.' I thought. 'Rain will be good on the new crops.' I patted Taouse's head as I walked past and into the farmhouse.

.

After a filling bowl of potato soup, Taouse and I sat on the small veranda outside of my home. I looked out over the landscape in the oncoming dusk and leaned back on the porch rail. Raising my hand, a spark of fire rolled out from my palm. I played with the small flame, watching as it danced and weaved in my open hand, then turned my palm away from me, and the flame dashed off into the sky, flickering out eventually. The storm on the horizon was almost overhead now, and lightning cracked across the sky. A crash of thunder roared down from the heavens, and Taouse cowered towards the house. A drizzle of rain had started to come down, and I stood from the wooden floor.

"Come on boy," I said to Taouse, "No need to be out in this weather." We walked inside together, and I sat on the edge of my bed, gazing out the window and into my field. One of those sudden, extreme waves of exhaustion hit me, and I decided it was a good time to sleep. I laid back on my bed, kicking off my shoes and taking off my shirt. I looked at Taouse, and reminisced aloud.

"Good day of planting, huh boy? Nice and warm today, with a storm from Skyrim in the evening. Perfect." My eyelids were getting heavy, and I allowed sleep to wash over my body.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Unexpected Visitor

I went flailing to the floor, hitting it hard, my mind not fully aware I was awake yet. Taouse was under the table, with his tail between his legs and whining. I shook myself awake, scrambling to the window. The drizzle has turned into a downpour, and sheets of sideways rain pelted the house. There was a strange roar coming from the fields, and the thunder was much more frequent and loud. After I calmed down from my more violent awakening, I called Taouse out from under the table. we sat on the floor next to my bed, and I willed my heartbeat calm. Watching the window from the floor, the thunder was preceded by an orange glow, one which I wasn't familiar with.

"No normal storm..." I thought aloud. The next orange glow was brighter and seemed almost closer than the others. The following boom shook the house to its foundations, throwing items such as myself around the interior.

"Gods! What is that?" I said, picking myself off the floor. I gestured for Taouse to stay, grabbed my father's sword, and opened the door. Sounds rushed into my ears when the door opened. It was deafeningly loud, with rain and thunder and... two armies, in my fields, clashing back and forth across the landscape.

'The war wasn't supposed to make it here...' I was completely shocked. What I thought was thunder was actually catapults, hurling balls of fire into the opposing forces. It was near impossible to make out who was who in the dark and heavy rain. I turned and ran back inside, pulling nervously on my brown ponytail, then flipped it back behind my head, so it rested at my shoulder blades again. I quickly packed as much as would fit into a single bag.

"I'll slip out behind the house-need a map-they might not catch me in the dark-cloak-just need to get to ma and pa's house-" My panicked breath and shaking hands made it difficult to pack without ruining my belongings. A tremendous slam on the door practically sent me through the thatch roof. I turned around quickly and drew my sword. I tried to make my voice sound strong, but I couldn't help it from cracking.

"Now, I-I don't know why you're here, but I h-have a sword, a-and, I will use it!" I waited for Thalmor soldiers to burst in and finish me off, but instead the sound of scuffling boots and clashing metal resonated from outside. I waited for only a few moments longer, but it felt like an eternity. The door flew open, and a huge silhouette loomed in the frame, barely able to fit through. I prepared to threaten him to leave, when, all of a sudden, he fell inward, crashing onto my floor.

In the light of my house, the man was illuminated so I could see him. He was large, even for Orc standards. His black dreadlocks pulled back into a small ponytail partially covered earthy green pointed ears. He couldn't be with the Altmeri Dominion, but he wasn't wearing Imperial or Stormcloak armor. Who was he with?

As I moved in for a closer look, I saw something sprouting out the small of his back-the feathered shaft of an Elven arrow. A small pool of blood had begun to form on the floor under his abdomen.

"Um, sir? Are-are you ok? Sir?" I bent over to examine his wound. "What do I do?" I wondered aloud, beginning to panic. Deciding to pull out the arrow and hope for the best, I leaned down and took hold of the projectile. As soon as I began to pull, the Orc's eyes shot open, his brow eyes burning with rage. A massive hand reached around, grabbing my upper arm and throwing me into the table. Taouse yelped and ran to under my bed as I crashed against the wood violently. My head spinning from the blow, I squinted through blurred vision as he shoved himself off the floor, his giant form rising like a mountain. I scrambled to get to my feet, but he was faster. He grabbed my collar and hoisted me up with one hand, his other clenched and ready to strike. I raised my hands in front of my face.

"D-Don't hit me, please!" The fire that burned in his eyes softened, and I felt his arm lose its strength. He dropped me to the floor and my knees gave out, too weak to hold me. He seemed to suddenly realize the arrow in his back.

"Damnit..." he slurred as he collapsed to his knees. I rose shakily to my feet, and inched closer to him.

"Sir? Do you n-need help?" I inched closer.

"Get away! I'm fine." His deep voice was thick with an Orsinian accent. He shifted onto one knee, obviously trying to stand, and obviously in some pain. It was slow, but he stood. His hand went down to his wound, and he touched it tenderly.

"Listen close, Puny. you'll nee-"

"My name isn't puny-"

"Shut up. This is important. Get a washcloth, a bucket of water, bandages, and some whiskey. Hurry, go!" I rushed around the small interior of my house, careful to avoid bumping into this creature. When I had collected what he requested, I placed them at his side.

"Get the washcloth wet. put a bit of whiskey on it. Not all of it, idiot! Now grab the arrow. Don't ask questions, just do. On the count of three, pull the arrow out and down. One, Two, Three! ...Well?" all the information he was giving me was simply bouncing off my shocked skull, while my brain raced furiously, but my body didn't respond.

"Just pull it out? Just like that?!" I asked, panicking again.

"Yes, that's what I'm asking. Is that a problem, Puny?" He leaned over and sneered in my face.

"My name is Ashton Eiliad, son of Ashil, heir to his land an-"

"That's nice, Puny. In case you forgot, there is an arrow in my back, and I'm thinking about bleeding out on your nice flooring if you don't focus. Out, then down. Go!" I did as he requested, pulling out, then down, and the arrow slid from the wound with a sickening squelch. The Orc grimaced slightly, but didn't show much more emotion than that. I, on the other hand, gagged, and was tempted to lose that delicious soup from earlier. I willed it back to my stomach, and the wooden shaft clattered to the floor. My head began to hurt again, and I stumbled backwards. He chuckled. At my weakness, I suppose.

"You ain't done, kid. Try to clean it up a bit." I steadied myself and stumbled back to the bucket, picking the rag off the rim. I pressed the washcloth onto the bloody hole, and was ready to pour the whiskey on it, when his voice broke in angrily.

"The hell are you doing that for?" He snatched the bottle from my hand. "Wasting good whiskey on some flesh wound. Hmph." He took a swig, then looked back at me. "Well?" I hurriedly dressed the wound with a few bandages, stopping only to take the bottle from his hand to take a gulp, then placed it back a moment later.

"I think that should hold, for now at least." I wiped my brow, hoping that I didn't look too sickly green, for I nearly lost my dinner twice looking at that wound. He turned around and stretched his arms and pivoted his shoulders, trying his back.

"I guess it'll work. Thank you, by the way." His mouth curved into a small smile. "What'd you say your name was?" he inquired. I stuck my hand out in an effort to make peace.

"Ashon. Ashton Eiliad. And you?"

"Call me Gurban. Gurban Dulkash, if we're being formal," he replied. He took my hand and gave it a firm shake.

"By the way," he said slyly, "I have some people I'd like you to meet."

As he walked toward the door, I could tell it was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:Guests

"You should prepare to entertain visitors." Gurban said, donning his armor again. He walked towards the door.

"Wait!" I cried. "Isn't there still a battle going on out there? You could get hurt again, and I'm not saving you a second time!" He looked back, and the faintest glimpse of kindness crossed his face, but was gone in an instant.

"I never asked you to save me."

"You were face down in a pool of your own blood. It didn't seem like you needed to ask."

"I would have been fine!" We stared each other down angrily, his hard, brown eyes into my grey-blue eyes. But, I could see that his will was stronger.

"Fine." I grumbled. "How many should I prepare for?" He took hold of the door handle and said to the door,

"As many as I can find." With that, he threw the door back and took off into the stormy night.

….

I Awoke to the sound of banging on the wooden door of my house. Morning sunlight broke through the dusty windows, filling my small house with an orangish glow.

'Maybe it was all just a dream.' I thought. 'Yeah, that's it. Just a bad dream.' Then the banging came again, and I cringed under the truth. There were the bloodstains on the floor, the bucket, washcloth, and now empty whisky bottle. I stumbled to the door, opening it slowly.

"Hello?"

"Ashton. Good to see you're honoring our deal. I was getting ready to break down the door." Gurban sneered, then pushed past me and into the house. following him was a man clad in an armor that I hadn't seen before. He was a Nord, with blonde hair down to his shoulders. Two braids ran down each side, pulling the rest back with them. He walked in, closed the door behind us, and the turned to me.

"Hello, Ashton. It's good to meet you. Gurban told me about you patching him up. He wont say it, but he's grateful." He had a thick Nordic accent and deep voice. It was almost soothing. "My name is Hrom Yngvaar, proud," He paused, bowing slightly, for dramatic effect I suppose, "To make your acquaintance." A smile lit up his features. He had bright blue eyes, and was very muscular. Considering, he seemed kind. We shook hands, then he flopped down in a kitchen chair.

"Nice to meet you, Hrom." I said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Gurban, is this all the company I'm supposedly having?"

Gurban, already half finished with a bottle of mead, tossed one to his friend. "Nah, their'll be one more soon. Had to mop up the remnants of the Thalmor out there." I looked over the two of them, closer now that I could see. Blood splatters painted patches of their armor red, and they were covered in the filth of a battlefield, their faces marred with cuts and blood. They didn't show any signs of remorse, or sadness. Simply a sort of denying strength in their eyes.

"How can you be certain he'll survive?" I asked worriedly. "There must have been thousands of soldiers on each side-"

"He's fine, if not enjoying himself," Hrom interrupted. "And I think that's an exaggeration. There was only about two hundred total. A skirmish, really." I thought about that. I wasn't sure that I had even met two hundred people in my life.

"Who won?" I inquired.

"We crushed the milk drinkers." Gurban boasted.

Hrom put down the bottle of mead slowly, and a solemn look came over him.

"Unfortunately, I don't think there will be a definite winner, as you would know it, in this war. The Aldmeri Dominion is tired of humans taking up their space, so they decided to conquer us all. And, as you can imagine, most other races weren't too pleased about it, especially in Skyrim. The Stormcloaks and Empire, at odds since they separated, had to join forces. With the combined might of the Empire, the Stormcloaks, and even House Redoran of the Dunmer, we have been able to hold them back. But I don't know how long it will last. They are stronger than we thought, and are focusing their might on Skyrim, the largest threat."

"Why are you the largest threat?" I asked, sorry to interrupt the story.

"Because we won't have another treaty. " he said ominously. "Anyway, we can hold them, but in order to win, we needed a plan. The Emporer and High King Jerrall Stormcloak met to decide one. They decided to cut the head off the beast. To kill the Queen of the Aldmeri Dominion, Ellinani."

"That's...that's supposedly impossible." I said in wonder.

"It is." Gurban replied from the corner, now on his third bottle of mead. I looked to Hrom, whom I already felt I knew, for elaboration. He replied with a weak smile. I looked them over, more closely in the light of morning. They were covered in the filth of battle, faces marred with cuts and blood. The sound of knocking on my door interrupted our thoughts. Hrom stood and opened the door just long enough so a man could slip inside. He looked at Hrom, and they grabbed each other's forearms, connecting their left hands above the link.

"Brother." They said in unison, and then hugged quickly. He was a Nord, and was donned in Stormcloak Officer's armor, but instead of a bearskin cloak and hood, it was wolf skin. He tossed the hood back, and revealed his face. Like his brother, he had brilliant blue eyes and blonde hair, although his was loose and had one braid. He was much less muscular and a few inches shorter than Hrom, but was still inches taller than my five feet and eight inches.

"Hello, Hrom. And hello, Gurban." Gurban raised his fourth bottle of mead in greeting. There was something mysterious about the way he moved to sit. It was almost like a wolf on the prowl.

Hrom sat back down and picked up his bottle. When he didn't offer one to his brother, I stepped in. He shook his head, refusing it.

"Hrom," he asked, "That is fine armor. Is it from the Skaal?"

Hrom replied to his brother, "It is. They are brilliant smiths." Hrom looked over his little brother.

"It's been too long, Yngvaar. I was glad when I heard you and your men would be joining us in this fight." Yngvaar nodded. "What brings the Wolf of Skyrim out here anyway?"

I almost fell off my bed. The Wolf of Skyrim was in my home! He is the youngest officer to ever serve in the Stormcloak military, and is renowned for his personal war with the Thalmor, years before everyone else.

He simply shrugged in reply and said, "I heard you might need help, brother."

"Aye, that we did. Gurban is useless in a fight." Hrom laughed, and the Orc shot him a hateful glare. After the conversation was over, we all sat, staring at our drinks or at the floor, when I asked,

"So, why are you all here, anyway? Here, in my house, I mean. Gurban said he needed to gather you here. For what purpose?" They all looked at each other, as if deciding who had the burden of telling me. Hrom sighed.

"Well, at first, we just needed a meeting place. Somewhere to regroup and get our bearings."

"Why is that?" I asked.

Hrom seemed uncomfortable. "You know that group that we were talking about? The team meant to kill Queen Ellinani?"

"You mean to tell me..."

"Yes. We plan to kill the Queen of the Aldmeri Dominion.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Propositions

"We are the beginnings of that group. We are heading to Whiterun to recruit the next member. You can't tell this to anyone, please. We have to stay hidden, or the Thalmor won't rest until we're all dead."

I sat a moment, trying to take in all that had happened in nine short hours, but mostly this. Who these men were. What they were doing. The fact that I was probably involved now.

"But now I'm thinking," Hrom continued, "Why not take on another member now?"

Gurban went rigid, and Yngvaar's head whipped to face him incredulously.

"It makes sense," he said in defense, "He obviously knows how to patch up a wound, and he's a mage, and he can hopefully wield a blade." I did a nod-shrug mix. How hard could it be? "We'll need someone like that until we can get a more seasoned wizard with us. And why not? There's strength in numbers."

Gurban said, "But, he's just a farmer! He'll get himself killed." Hrom looked to Yngvaar, who simply shook his head. Discouraged, but obviously not defeated, Hrom looked at his feet. He then perked up, asking me,

"Can you cook?" I was taken by surprise by this.

"I suppose. My ma says I'm good, but I'm not sure if-"

Gurban broke in. "On second thought, how bad can he be?" Yngvaar rolled his eyes.

"Let me get this straight." I stopped them. "You want ME? A farmer with no experience but with some cooking, to go tramping about on adventures going gods know where and doing who knows what, with you, a group of men who are the types that I was told as a child to avoid, to try to attempt something that all of you know is impossible, and the only incentive is a certain, gruesome death?!" They all looked at me in surprise at my sudden rant at length. Gurban leaned away from his corner, scratching his chin. He walked over to me unrolling a map, and slammed it on the table in front of me.

"That's exactly what we're asking." He said, with a smile on his scraggly face. Hrom and Yngvaar stood at his sides. Hrom held his hand out to me.

"Ashton Eiliad, do you want to go on an adventure?"

…...

No. It's ridiculous! Why would they even ask such a thing? I can't just run off with some strangers. They might not even be who they say they are. Gurban Dulkash, Hrom and Yngvaar Ysgavil... I just need to get away from this mess.I was finishing packing my bag, trying to be silent, as the sleeping forms of the three men lay strewn throughout my house.I tossed the bag over my shoulder, and crept to the door. I reached to open it, and as my hand touched the handle, a hand grasped my shoulder. I had to stop myself from crying out in surprise. I turned to see Yngvaar standing, a concerned look on his face.

"What? Oh, come on," I said, keeping my voice low. "You knew I wasn't going to take you up on the offer." He looked skeptical.

"I can't just go on an adventure like you people! I have responsibilities, ties, things that need doing." His eyebrows raised in interest.

"All right, as a boy, I dreamed of being an explorer, but that was years ago. It isn't my wish anymore."He still said nothing, but kept a look of interest, as if to say, 'Go on.'

"It would be exciting though...But no. No. I mean...ah, the open road, nothing to stop us but the gods themselves, but as wonderful as it would-" Yngvaar looked smug. "Might. As wonderful as it might be, I have duties here, as I said." I turned back to the door. "Goodbye, Yngvaar. Tell the others." As I opened the door, it hit me like a warhammer.

Why? Why stop myself from living my dreams? and why not? What was keeping me here? Crops can be resown, a house rebuilt, but this, this is a once in an age opportunity, and I was ready to pass it up, just like that? No. I will go on an adventure. I will be a brave explorer, even if it kills me. Which it very well could. I closed the door slowly, and turned around even slower.

"Yngvaar, you're right!" My voice rose in excitement, waking the other two men.

"I have no reasons not to go with you. Hrom," I said strongly, "I have decided to go with you. And, Yngvaar?" I turned back, "Thank you. It was good that you stopped me." He nodded, then walked to his brother, who was re-equipping his Skaal armor.

"Are you sure, Ashton?" Hrom asked, "This will be no walk to town. We will be venturing all across Skyrim for sure, and possibly all Tamriel. It's a big undertaking."

I stood straight, trying to look strong. "I'm ready for adventure, sir!" Hrom smiled kindly, and Gurban chuckled.

"I'm sure you are, Puny. We'll need to get you some armor though. Where's the nearest town?"

I could hardly contain my excitement. "I can show you. Follow me!" I took my pack, which had much of the supplies they told me to bring already. Food, water, a few cooking pots, bed roll, sword, a spellbook or two, and with a note to my parents sent by means of Taouse, for he couldn't come with me, we were off.

Gurban opened the door fully for the first time since last night, and I saw three dead Thalmor. One was pinned to a porch support by a huge Iron axe, which Gurban pulled out violently and placed in a sheath on his back. The corpse crumpled to the floor, and as I reeled in disgust, the others seemed unfazed. Hrom gathered an axe and shield from the floor, most likely of Skaal origin. He sheathed the axe and placed the shield on the back of his pack. Yngvaar took his Steel longsword that leaned against the doorframe and tied the sheath belt around himself.

With the three men, donned in armor and and armed to the teeth, we began our quest. I was ready for anything!

Or at least I thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello readers! How are all your lovely faces? Just letting you all know that the story is continuing. Thank you to those who have reviewed. I appreciate it immensely. Keep up the good work, guys! Kthxbai!

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Chapter 5: A Minor Complication

I have never walked this far. Ever. My feet ached under the weight of my pack and new leather armor, and my stomach growled in protest, demanding nourishment. It was only the second day, and I was already lagging behind. We had crossed the border into Skyrim yesterday, then stayed at the inn in Dragon Bridge. We were then heading south along the main road towards the center of Skyrim, and Whiterun.

So far, the trek had been mostly uneventful. We were attacked by a few bandits, but the other three made quick work of them. I had barely drawn my new steel sword before it was over. Wild animals seem to be deterred by our number.

I made frequent stops to look around, take in the scenery, or examine a plant or animal I had never seen. In this country, there is a plant called Nirnroot that makes music! Incredible. About a day and a half into the journey, we ran into a...complication.

We were maybe half way to Whiterun, cutting through the north of the Reach, when Hrom spotted it. He told us to stop and shut up suddenly, then to take cover in the rocks along the road. They executed the maneuver with precision, while I stumbled into a hiding spot, still not sure what we were hiding from. I looked to the others for guidance, as I had so many times on this journey, and saw they had all drawn their weapons. I quickly did the same, and readied a spell in my left hand. Gurban knelt in a cluster of rocks next to me, and gestured with his axe towards the sky.

Then I saw it.

It let loose a mighty roar that shook the heavens, the ground trembling with every beat of its leathery wings. It was flying directly at us, eyes alight with rage.

Dragon.

It flew until it was above us, then circled for a moment. The others gathered together around me, their weapons at the ready. I was utterly terrified, and I saw in my friends eyes that they were as well. The dragon wasted no time with formalities. He simply roared in a deep, harsh voice,

"Drem Yol Lok, my Draal. Your Dwiin against my Yol! Ag ahrk Dir Vollaan!"

And with that, he inhaled deeply, with a long "Yol..."

"Get down!" Hrom screamed. We dropped our packs and hit the floor, just as the beast released his deadly breath. "Tor Shul!" Fire encompassed the rocks, and I felt as if the sun had come down to Nirn for a visit. As soon as the fire had cleared, Hrom, Yngvaar, and Gurban were up and charging into the fray. I was more reluctant to spring from my cover, but I jumped from the rocks, releasing fire bolt after firebolt at the Dragon. It then accepted our challenge, and landed with an earth shattering crash, sending me stumbling to the floor. The monster saw his opportunity, and was ready to send me to Atherius, but Hrom jumped at the Dragon, planting his axe in the back of its neck. This seemed to only anger the Dragon, who whirled around, smashing his head into Hrom's readied shield. He went flying backwards, tumbling to a stop.

Gurban charged forward, executed a spin swing, burying the head of his axe deep into the Dragons side. The dragon roared, unfurling its wing, striking the Orc down. Yngvaar came in from behind, and tried to jump onto its massive back. While it was preoccupied with him, I, against my better judgment, charged forward. My left hand burned from the fire I had been casting, and my only other option was my sword. I plunged my blade into his throat, and he let out a roar of pain.

This was quickly remedied, as the Dragon swung his head again, and it felt as if a boulder had been launched into my chest. I flew back, losing my grip on my sword. Great.

Yngvaar was being shaken off rather violently. He rolled down the side of the beast and crashed hard onto the ground. It was clear to all that we didn't have a chance against this thing. Just as we were ready to make a run for it, the Dragon roared in pain.

Something was sprouting out of its side. It was the long shaft of an arrow. Another stuck in its throat. Then another, and another. Arrow after arrow flew from the cliffs above us, striking the Dragon. After maybe a dozen projectiles, they stopped for a moment. The next thing that came over the cliff was...a person.

The figure leaped at the Dragon, which looked at him and roared. In mid air, the person loosed an arrow which went into the Dragon's mouth. It gurgled slightly, and the person landed on its head, firing three arrows at once into the base of the beast's skull. It stopped moving suddenly, and toppled to the ground. The person, who I now saw was a woman, jumped nimbly from the Dragon's head before it hit the floor. She turned back to the Dragon, revealing her long furry tail. She was a Khajiit.

She said with a thick Elsweyr accent, "Fly again in distant skies, Dovah," and she closed the creatures eyes. I watched intently as she attempted to gather her arrows from the felled beast. I inched closer to her.

"Excuse me...?" I said meekly. Mostly because I had yet to regain air to my lungs. She made no indication of hearing me. She had black fur, with white patches on her ears, nose and neck. The others were running towards us. They arrived, and Hrom walked up to the woman.

"Thank you. We were getting ready to take our chances at running." He said gratefully. Gurban grumbled,

"We would have been fine." We all looked at her and the slain Dragon in wonder.

"None of you morons have ever fought a Dragon, hmm?" She said finally, pulling out another arrow. We all shook our heads. She rolled her eyes.

"Have you at least seen one before?" We, again, shook our heads. She turned back to forcing her arrows out of the corpse.

"Eh, it does not surprise me. They are now a dying race, for the second time in history. Why in the Twin Moons are you out here anyway?" Hrom cleared his throat.

"We are heading to Whiterun for some...personal business." She looked at him skeptically.

"Of course you are. You're lost, by the way. You are heading south, towards Markarth." Hrom looked surprised.

"No, that can't be right."

Gurban said defiantly, "That's because it's not. Orcs are prized for their sense of direction." The Khajiit broke in.

"Really? I thought they were distinguished by their eating habits and stench." I giggled, and Gurban glared at me.

"We're done here," He said through clenched teeth. He stomped a ways down the road, then looked back at us, gesturing to follow.

I thought about this. "Gurban..." I said, "Why don't we listen to her? None of you have been this way before, and she most likely has. It could shave days off the trip! And she seems to know how to fight...so wouldn't it be smart to follow her?"

She looked at me gratefully with big, green eyes.

"Know how to fight is an understatement." She replied. "I am a Blade." I almost fell over. Again. I don't know why it had taken me this long to realize what armor she was wearing. The ancient armor of the Akaviri. That statement even stopped Gurban.

"My name is Va'asiva." Then she asked something that I think we were all relieved to hear. "You have room for one more, yes?"

***Greetings, my prey. Your steel against my fire! Burn and die quickly!***


	6. Chapter 6

Hello there! My apologies for the wait, friends. I have been busy and had a block stuck in my head, but now the juices are flowing once more. I hope you guys keep reading! I am really enjoying the story and love these characters. I am open to ideas, so if you have any suggestions, let me know! Also, I'm thinking of doing another Fan Fic. So which fandom sounds best: The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, or Treasure Planet? Leave a comment with your vote. Thanks for reading, and enjoy.

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Chapter 6: Stories to Tell

It was evening now, and the central Skyrim sunset was spectacular. Oranges, pinks and purples shot across the sky, filtering through clouds and trees. The newly made fire sparked and popped as we sat gathered around it, the cold evening beginning to sink into our bones. All were silent, sipping canteens of water, still shaken from the near deadly events of the day. I sat hugging my legs to my chest, my position of safety. My ribs still hurt. Hrom had lost his pack in the firestorm, and my cooking skills had come in handy feeding him and our new companion.

As night set in we busied ourselves readying our tents and bed rolls. After that was finished, it was still barely twilight; we saw that we would have to make conversation. As we sat again around the fire, I cleared my throat.

"So, uh... Va'asiva, is it?" The Khajiit nodded. "What brings you out here?" She barely looked up from her soup.

"Dragon hunting," she replied plainly.

"Mmm." I pursed my lips. "Can I ask you something?" She looked up.

"After you killed that Dragon, you said something almost reverent, then it closed its eyes. Why do that after killing it purposefully?"

She put down her now empty bowl. "Do you not feel remorse after killing a deer for your meals? You kill the deer because it must be done. It is the same."

I was confused. "Why must it be done?"

"Because they have no place in the modern world. They went extinct once for a reason. Alduin is destroyed, but his hateful legacy still lingers. These Dragons must go." Hrom chuckled.

"You sound exactly like my wife." A longing look came over him. Yngvaar put a hand on his shoulder. "Its been almost a year now since I've seen her. But she's a tough girl. She'll be fine." Yngvaar's hand fell back at his side.

I smiled at him, and Gurban, who had been quiet this whole time, piped in, "I left my family long ago. Plan to keep it that way."

"I'm sorry to hear that." I said, trying to understand. He replied,

"Why? I'm not sorry. Those bastards kicked me out, called me a coward and a weakling for not wanting to kill my own brother, and claim my 'rightful place' as tribe chief. They're the cowards. Orisinium's problems can stay there." We were all shocked from his sudden burst of backstory.

"What? Why are you all looking at me?" he inquired at our stunned silence. "Yngvaar hasn't talked yet! Look at him!" We did just that, swiveling to face the Wolf of Skyrim. He looked around nervously, then looked at Hrom, who shook his head. Yngvaar's face was pleading, and Hrom rolled his eyes, turning to us.

"We really have the same story. Grew up on a farm west of Windhelm, moved to Windhelm later on, joined the army, wound up here. Not too interesting." We looked from him to his brother. Va'asiva said what we were all thinking.

"Your brother does not talk much. Why is this?" Hrom looked at Yngvaar, as if asking permission. He nodded.

"Maybe a year before we moved to Windhelm, our farm was attacked by a bandit group called the Red Road Raiders. They killed our livestock, burned our crops, took our money...and captured Yngvaar. They expected a ransom. What they got was a bloodbath. I was only 16 at the time, but my father and I were not going to let them take him." He paused and looked down. "We killed everyone we could find. By the time we got to Yngvaar, the leader and his last men were trapped. In a panic, they took Yngvaar and..." He choked slightly. "They cut his throat." Yngvaar pulled down his collar to reveal a scar along his neck. "I went after them, and my father rushed him to Windhelm. The healer did what she could, saying that he was lucky the bade didn't go too deep. But they could never fully heal him. When he talks now, he says it hurts the wound, making it feel like it's opening again. So he stays quiet most of the time."

Yngvaar looked at his crossed legs, and we were all silent for a moment. I asked eventually,

"What became of the ones you went after?"

He looked away, as if ashamed. "I only got one. The other three escaped." We all looked at each other, as if saying, 'Can anyone top that?' Gurban looked at each of our solemn faces, then smiled suddenly.

"I have just the thing for dampened spirits. I brought a bottle of Colovian Brandy!" He pulled it out of his bag, and I started, "Hey- You took that from my house!" We all looked at him, then laughed. The Brandy was handed out, even to me, and I don't usually drink. We drank and talked and joked into the night.

The moons were high above our heads before we crawled under our tents. I wiggled into my bed roll, feeling its warm embrace, letting the sounds of night and fire lull me to a dreamless sleep.


End file.
